Chapitre 27: Chapter 26: Home Sweet Home (Alabama?)
(Note: This chapter is for all the buddies and the buddisettes who had enough cheese in them to keep pestering me for more chapters. Without you guys, i might've given up. Thank you .)
Humans love expressing themselves.
We all have this overpowering desire to define our being at every occasion, to display it openly for the world to see, admire and judge. We show our skills, wealth, nature and opinions through clothings, wordings and housings.
The last one is well portrayed in Twelve Grimmauld Place, the ancestral seat of the most noble house of Black.
I looked at the uncared for upperclass residence, as my chauffeur's Lincoln departed with haste. The decayed paint, rusted bars and dead orchids reflected the damage my newly found house withstood in the last decades, yet still failed at masking the opulence and power of old.
The house was of course unplottable, as any worthwhile wizarding home ought to be. But it also boasted a rather...impressive collection of extremely unpleasent magical defences, though i doubt they saw much use.
Who in their right mind would come and attack the Blacks in their own territory, after all?
Still, my inner dark knight was very much pleased.
The defences were all designed to stop any intruder from trespassing, while also keeping muggles at bay, for their safety more than anything else. But as a member of the main family line, i should have no problem entering.
i stepped forward, tensing as the dark magic charged ward washed over me. Fortunately, it recognised the family magics within my person and allowed me entrance to our ancestral home.
It is a strange feeling, to sense a foreign force of great power and terrible malice accept me with enthusiasm. Bolstering my magic, urging me to enter and reclaim my birthright.
Strange but not unpleasant.
I wish i could say the same of what was next to come.
I opened the door, and did my best to ignore what amounts to a magical orgasm coming from my home...because magic. It was made somewhat easier by loud clinging noise a bell made as i used the enchanted door, which took me somewhat by surprise.
I was greeted by the lovely sight of a haunted house.
It was grim and dark, lit by barely functional gas lamps. The foul smell of rot and damp assaulted my nose, which was already irked by the heavy dust and thick, smog like air i had the honour of breathing.
It was positively revolting, which made the derelict building look somewhat more tolerable. It was once a grand hallway, covered in ornament and immaculate decoration to receive esteemed guests. Yet was now much more similar to the den of some crackhead than anything else.
Falling wallpaper? Check.
Smell of piss, shit and death? Check.
Rodents, insects and spiders everywhere? Check.
The only thing this gloomy hallway needed is a passed out, potentially dead prostitute and it would look like the average apartment in Detroit.
'I wonder if the Blacks were into Opioids?' i thought, a small smile on my face. It would certainly explains their recent behaviour, if incest didn't make the cut.
Sadly, i couldn't stay in my thoughts for too long, for i was interrupted by an idiot.
"Who are you!?" the incestuous witch shriecks "Kreacher! Kreacher!"
'What a lovely woman.' I sighed, ever so pleased to meet my dear grandma for the first time, even if she died years ago...then again, so did i.
The yellow skinned, shrivelled mess of a hag had more in common with a leper's ballsack than anything remotely feminine, a heritage from her Crabbe lineage, perhaps. Her bloodshot grey eyes, and perpetually drooling mouth displayed the full extent of the Black's madness.
All in all, she looked like a fine pureblood lady.
"Mistress!" Called the leper's foreskin, i mean Kreacher.
The poor thing was sad to look at, even for me. The elf was deathly thin, his skin covered in boils, cuts and burns old and new. His eyes shared the madness of his mistress, while his broken, mutilated crooked nose reminded me of Snape when he's menstruating. He was dressed in his finest set of rags, and looked nothing like the fluff balls that were Hogwarts elves.
"An intruder!" He growled like a rabid hound, his eyes almost bursting out of their sockets. He clumsily gathered his strength to try and banish me, though his efforts were in vain. An elf cannot attack his master, after all.
Did they forget about the copious amounts of defence put on the house? Obviously.
"Stay still, Kreacher." I ordered him, feeling the family's magic enforcing my commend while seeping away a negligible amount to feed the pour sod.
My blabbering, shocked mess of a house elf could do naught but obey. Trying, and failing to process the situation. His mistress was mirroring him, but fared much better than the magical beast. An elf only obeyed the orders of his master and his family, unless asked otherwise. It was a truth known to even the most mentally damaged inbred witches of Britain, and old Walburga was no exception.
It was time for me to deal with this nuisance.
"Greeting, Lady Black." I bowed lightly, as was customary for a wizard saluting a witch equal standing. "I, Magnus Sirius Black, heir of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black came to claim my birthright as the last scion of the main family."
It sounded stupid, looked stupid and in fact was extremely stupid. This kind of convoluted greetings were a waste of time and energy i would otherwise never consider, most families have discarded it for a more practical approach outside of official ceremonies.
But the Blacks were an Ancient and Most Noble House; the equivalent of Earldom in the muggle peerage system, and they absolutely loved reminding everyone of that through a flurry of needless protocol.
How wonderful!
"Greeting, Heir Black." She finally managed to spit out, relishing in the opportunity to flaunt her status at something other than a deranged elf. "I, Lady Walburga Irma Black, former head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, welcome you to your ancestral home."
"Greetings Master Black!" shouted an almost happy kreacher, without moving an inch of course, i had yet to allow him free movement.
"Thank you, my lady." I didn't bow this time, a recognised heir didn't bow to the lady dowager of his house, if he doesn't own a frog, that is. "I shall take my live. It seems i have much to do, the house has fallen into disrepair after all time."
I freed Kreacher, who almost had a stroke hearing my words, and was chastised by Walburga who finally saw what kind of disgusting hole she resided in. The elf escorted me to the Lord's solar, where the ward's keystone was safely hidden, so i could add myself to it and finally claim control of the entire house.
"Kreacher, i want you to clean the house to the best of your ability without overworking yourself." I asked him, sitting on the desk of my dear great-grandfather Arcturus who died a couple years ago and was likely the epitome of the somewhat racist grandpa. "Start with the kitchens, entry hall and my sleeping quarters."
"Yes, Master Magnus." Nodded the sickly looking elf, still not realising that i am the half-blood son of his most hated master.
'I might need to replace him, if his loyalty is lacking.' I mused, casting a few repairing charms and cleaning spells in my study. ' I'll have him acquire a few more elves to help him, just in case dealing with the locket is not enough to win him over. '
It felt surreal...this whole ordeal.
A couple days ago, i was trying to convert my assets from muggle to magical, and now I find myself dealing with the responsibilities of an almost ruined noble house's heir. With a long lost father to save, annoying ferrets who want nothing more than to steal my position and another bit of family I might need to reconnect with.
No, I will not do anything about Dumbledore's newest boy-toy being my god brother.
But on the other side of the coin, I found myself with free access to some of the most obscure tomes in the world. The black library ought to be one of the most well furnished in Britain, not to mention my functionally limitless ressources and the absurd amount of political capital i just gained.
I will have to change my plans.
+E-S+
Kreacher was lost.
It was always the same thing for Kreacher, ever since the death of his beloved mistress Walburga.
He stopped cleaning the house, stopped caring for the plants, getting rid of the rodents and pests and repairing the used items. All his functions as house elf were neglected, cast aside for him to wallow in self-pity and find a way to destroy the foul thing that took aways his dear master Regulus.
Kreacher was dying elf. A mere husk of his former self, sundered, weeping, masterless. There was no hope for such a wretched thing, couldn't be, he told himself.
Until he came, his good master Magnus.
Kreacher had been shocked to see an intruder in the house, the idea that someone could actually overcome the wards and defensive spells cast on the property sounded like madness to the servant. But then again, he was naught but a deranged elf, and when his mistress calls, he answers.
But before he could do anything to punish the trespasser, he felt the grip of the family magic restraining him. He felt the impossibility of such a task, the absolute order imposed on all house elves by their magic itself.
An elf couldn't harm his master.
Yet Kreacher has been masterless for years! His body was decayed and frail as proof of his starvation, he lived on nothing but the residual magic of the household that was rapidly falling appart with the death of every resident.
It was impossible.
Yes, impossible. It was a good word to describe his good master Magnus. The head servent thought as he observed the nervous young elves his good master bought from those filthy goblins to help him maintain the house. All of them clad in self made linen togas, impeccably clean and safe of all harm. A good thing, faithful to their master they were.
The good master Magnus had ordered them to make such clothes, to keep themselves warm and maintain a worthy appearance. An appearance worthy of servants of Black.
Kreacher had cried that day, as did his new comrades.
He supplied them with strong magic to keep them healthy, forced them to have comfortable quarters and prohibited all self-inflected bodily punishments. Nor did he ever torment them! Oh no, the good master Magnus would never torment them.
There was no master like his proud lord Magnus.
His young liege was here for but a week, and yet he changed Grimmauld from the broken home it became back into the prestigious seat of house black. He took back their riches, claimed the debts they had been denied. And he did all that without even leaving his nest for a day, as all good lords ought to do.
But none of it mattered to the old house elf, not truly. It only made him a good master, a great master even. But it had naught to do with him becoming Kreacher's master.
The good master Magnus destroyed the fool, cursed locket.
He fulfilled the last of wishes of his dear master Regulus, and for that aline Kreacher would follow him into the debts of hell itself.
'He even let me keep the portrait of my beloved mistress Walburga!' He couldn't help but burst into tears as he looked at the animated image of his beautiful mistress.
Magnus had ordered him to lift the elven permanent sticking charm he applied one the portrait, but as he complied, he didn't fathom the extent of his good master's kindness and generosity.
"Kreacher, you may keep her in your quarters if you wish, as long as you keep her properly silenced." The piercing eyes of his masters were shining in kindness that day.
'Yes, Kreacher would never let down his good master Magnus, no matter what.' He thought, smiling unnaturally as he looked at his screaming mistress.
His beautiful, beautiful mistress.
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Hey guys! It's your beloved Uncle Sheo!
I know, I know. I took my sweet time to update, didn't I? But i was awfully busy guys! believe it!
And i did update in the end, even if it's way shorter than what i wanted. Getting the machine back on track is kinda hard, and most of my inspiration and wonder has been replaced with mathematical equations and useless informations about proteins.
So don't blame me, blame the exams!
I'll be trying to get back on track these days. Write everyday, update regularly, try to better my writing and get it back to standard. You know the drill.
If you guys forgot anything from the previous chapters, just ask, or read them again, i know you don't have anything else to do anyway.
If you have any suggestion, advice or criticism, don't hesitate! You know i don't get mad about constructive criticism, though some people have a knack to make me go sane.
See you soon, buddies.
Peace and Cheese!
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
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